Bones and Sulu Sittin' In a Tree
by Ellipsis the Great
Summary: F-U-C-K-I-N-G. First comes sex pollen, then comes…well, sex, then comes a baby in a baby carriage…wait, that isn't right…MPREG with a twist. Sulu/Bones, Sulu/Chekov For a request on the Star Trek Kink Meme on Live Journal.


_**Bones and Sulu Sittin' in a Tree**_

_A one-shot by Ellipsis the Great_

_**Summary:**__ F-U-C-K-I-N-G. First comes sex pollen, then comes…well, sex, then comes a baby in a baby carriage…wait, that isn't right…MPREG with a twist. Sulu/Bones, Sulu/Chekov For a request on the Star Trek Kink Meme on Live Journal._

_**Disclaimer:**__ Star Trek belongs to J.J. Abrams, Gene Roddenberry, and all those other cool cats who own it. 'I'll love you forever' is from a book by Roger Munsch .__All I own is the plot! _

_**Rating:**__ M for adult themes_

He tries to open his eyes, but the lids are heavy and, even when he opens them, the light is too bright and his vision too fuzzy for it to make much of a difference.

"Bones?"

He groans, eyes fluttering open and close again in rapid succession.

"Bones, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

_Obviously_, he thinks, and tries to articulate, but he only manages to groan again.

"Bones, this is very important. Do you want to sleep with me?"

"Fuck…" Bones moans.

"Shit, I told you it was sex pollen. What're we gonna do if—"

"…No."

"—What?"

"Fuck no." Bones repeats.

There is a pause, and Bones is sure he hears poorly muffled snickers. He is finally able to keep his eyes open long enough for them to focus in on Jim's face, which is hovering above his. Somewhere behind him is an obviously amused Cupcake, who has accompanied them on this mission along with Sulu. But Sulu is nowhere in sight.

"Well." Jim somehow manages to sound happy and insulted at the same time. "That's…good."

"Are you feeling alright, Doctor?" Cupcake asks as he helps Bones stand up.

"Just a little disgusted." Bones says. "Why, exactly, was Jim propositioning me?"

"You got sprayed in the face by a plant we haven't identified, as yet." Jim says, huffing just a bit. "Since it seems to be a theme in this galaxy…we were afraid you were gonna wake up and try to molest one of us."

"Right." Bones says slowly. And it's true—this galaxy's trend is sex pollen-producing plants, which has made for several awkward situations, at least one accidental pregnancy, and Jim beating his own personal record for how many STDs he can catch in one mission (if Bones had ever thought an orgy involving tentacle-people was a good idea, the sight of Jim's _penis_ growing tentacles had turned him off to the whole thing). "Are we done, here?"

"Lieutenant Sulu is getting a sample of the plant, and then we should be ready to go back to the ship." Cupcake says, an amused glint still present in his eyes. Although he and Jim have managed to get over their initial hatred of each other in the past two years of their mission, they still taunt each other at any and every opportunity. Jim does, however, deny any of Bones' inquiries as to whether this is some sort of odd (and vaguely disturbing) version of kids pulling pigtails.

"Got it." Sulu says, stepping out of the surrounding vegetation as if on cue. For just a hint of a second, something in Bones' gut roils at the sound of Sulu's voice, but then it is gone and Bones thinks that he must have imagined it.

Jim nods, and flips his communicator open with the proficiency of someone who does this all too often (and/or practices in front of a mirror, which Bones thinks is entirely possible). "Scotty, four to beam up."

"Aye, Captain." Scotty's voice says, and then things go fuzzy and black and weird like they always do when transporters are involved.

When they get back aboard the _Enterprise_, Jim dismisses them because "You all look like shit; especially you, Bones. Go to sickbay and have someone make sure that damn pollen didn't do anything screwy."

Bones rolls his eyes—he's a doctor, for Christ's sake. He knows when he does and doesn't need medical attention, and he doesn't need it right now. So he just grumbles something at Jim that may or may not be a lying affirmation that he will go to sick bay, and goes to his room, instead.

He sprawls out on his bed immediately, one arm on his forehead, and dismisses the thought that his forehead feels rather feverish as he slips off to sleep…

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

When he wakes up the next morning, it is to sharp pains in his stomach that have him reeling for a good couple of minutes. He curls up, groaning, but after a while it has mostly passed. So he calls Christine, lets her know he's got some sort of stomach flu, and takes the day off after promising to come in for a hypo if it gets any worse (Bones knows he's a terrible patient, but he also knows he usually recovers from this sort of thing fairly quickly without any sort of actual treatment. This way saves everyone a headache).

Once that's taken care of, he buries himself back under his blankets, but he can't seem to go back to sleep. The pain in his stomach is getting worse—he thinks he should probably go to the bathroom just in case he vomits, but he also thinks he can't move right now because the pain is too intense. He takes big, gasping breaths of air, and is pretty sure he feels tears leaking out of his eyes.

The pain means that it takes him a moment to realize that there is someone banging on his door—he can't but hardly hear himself over the pain, forget about the goddamned door. He isn't sure whether he wants to call out for help or stay quiet and hope they'll go away, but whoever it is doesn't give him time to decide.

"Dr. McCoy?" It's Sulu, and at the sound of his voice the pain in his stomach evaporates like it was never there at all, but is immediately replaced by something _else_. "Dr. McCoy, are you in there?"

He moans—isn't sure why he's moaning, but the sound forces itself past his lips.

Sulu must hear it, because his footsteps come nearer to Bones' bedroom and stop where Bones assumes the doorway is. "Shit." He says, and runs to Bones' bedside. "Doc, are you okay?"

Bones can't articulate an answer. There's a heat in him, now, that's making it hard for his brain to form coherent sentences; forget about trying to voice one.

"Doc?" Sulu tries again.

Almost of its own accord, Bones' hand shoots out and grabs Sulu's collar, pulling him forward into a kiss that is painful but full of desire.

Sulu makes a strangled sound and tries to pull away, but Bones' grip is surprisingly strong for a man who doesn't work out all that much.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Bones all but chants when he pulls back, somehow flipping them over so that Sulu is underneath him on the bed. He is trying to strip the both of them at once, which is hard for reasons that his fever-ridden brain can't understand at the moment, but somehow or other he manages to get off their shirts and attacks the zipper on Sulu's pants with a single-mindedness that stems from a man who makes his livelihood on blocking out everything but the task before him.

"Doc, no. Shit." Sulu says, but he's half-hard already even though he knows he shouldn't be at all turned on, right now. "Doc, please don't…"

"Fuck me." Bones whines, pulling Sulu's pants down to his knees and then turning his attention to his own. "Fuck, fuck, fuck me."

"What?" Sulu asks, panting, and Christ Almighty his penis seems to understand more than he does at the moment because it has sprung to full attention, which it _shouldn't be doing_ because he's with Pavel (sweet, innocent Pavel Chekov who won't ever understand this even though he's older now than he was when they first started this mission), for Christ's sake.

"It burns, fuck me, fill me." Bones says, and before Sulu can even attempt to figure out what in the hell the doctor is talking about, he has lined Sulu up and pushed himself down and _Holy Christ on a cracker_ it feels so fucking good and hot and tight and there is friction there that Sulu thinks, vaguely, is due to the lack of lubrication, but it feels too good for him to try to stop.

Bones is talking again, nonsensical phrases that probably don't even make sense to him, but none of what he says sound like questions (or, if they are, they're probably rhetorical), so Sulu doesn't try to pay attention. Instead he pulls Bones down into a kiss that's just as messy as the first, hindered all the more by the havoc their lower halves are wreaking on each other. The snap of Sulu's hip upward, the driving down of Bones', the desperation with which they are both trying to reach completion—all of these things should be setting off warning bells in Sulu's head. They could be _trying_ to set off warning bells, but Sulu is too far gone to notice because as hard and rough as all of this is it's also some of the hottest sex he's had in his entire life (oh, Jesus, he shouldn't be thinking that at all, but there's a kind of mindlessness in all of this that's taking over and he can only manage to feel slightly guilty about it).

Then, suddenly noticing Bones' red, swollen, bobbing erection, Sulu reaches down, and he's hardly even touched it before Bones lets out a wailing keen and comes all over the both of them. Impossibly, this causes his body to squeeze even harder around Sulu's cock, and Sulu comes hard and fast and with a shout that is probably Bones' name but might not be.

And then they're staring at each other, wide-eyed and sweaty and, oh Jesus, Bones is a little confused because the last thing he really remembers is pain (but pain from what? He isn't sure).

"D…Doctor." Sulu says.

"Lieutenant." Bones replies. Shifts, and gasps from the sheer burn of pulling off of Sulu, who echoes the sound with a cry of his own. "What…shit, what happened?"

"Sex pollen." Sulu says, and feels sick, because _he_ hadn't ingested any of said pollen (had he?) and as such should have been in complete control of himself (and there's poor, sweet Pasha to think about, too; fuckity fuck fuck fuck). "I…you…Jesus Christ, Doc, I'm sorry."

The memories are fluttering across Bones' mind as he collapses on the bed beside Sulu. "I'm the one who…_accosted_ you."

"Under the influence of what I believe to have been some sort of very powerful aphrodisiac." Sulu says firmly. "I, er, came in here," he couldn't possibly have chosen a poorer phrase, "because I think you should go to Medical. I don't quite recognize some of the chemicals that plant's pollen was producing, and I'm, uh, concerned about what effects it might have on you."

"The effect is aggressive sexual desires, apparently." Bones says, wanting nothing more than to bury his head under a pillow and _smother himself_. "And a hell of a stomachache."

Sulu props himself up on an elbow, concerned. "Stomachache? Was this…er, before or after?"

"Before." Bones says. It's blessedly easy to slip into his clinical doctor-mode. "A sharp, prolonged pain in my lower abdomen that abated when I heard you talking, and a slight fever."

"You should go to the sick bay." Sulu says.

"Soon 's I can move." Bones says with a sigh.

"I'll…I'll help." Sulu says, fumbling to pull his pants up. "And…pick up the paperwork we'll need to fill out for a…a sexual assault."

"Which of us are we saying assaulted the other?" Bones asks. "Because the way I remember it, I assaulted you. But I'm pretty sure you sound like you think you assaulted me. And if we assaulted each other…that's probably some weird, fucked-up form of consent. Maybe."

"You weren't in your right mind, Doc, and I took advantage…" Sulu says.

"I didn't exactly give you much choice, did I?"

"I could have fought you off."

"And assaulted a senior officer?"

"It isn't assault if—"

"If it's self-defense?" Bones arches an eyebrow at him.

"If I was merely trying to sedate and apprehend a senior officer who was clearly not in his right mind." Sulu corrects him firmly.

"Look, kid," Bones says, and watches the way the name rankles the ever-calm Hikaru Sulu, "we can word this in any number of ways. You're going to word it so it sounds like you assaulted me, and I'm going to word it like I assaulted you."

"We can't just _not_ report it." Sulu says.

"But we _can_ report it like both of us were under the influence and can't remember who started what." Bones says.

Sulu purses his lips into a thin line, staring into the doctor's eyes like he's going to find some answers, there. He doesn't. "Doctor, I don't think—"

"That much is obvious." Bones says. "And don't try to tell me this is a bad idea. Of _course_ it's a bad idea. But it's the only idea that's not gonna get us court marshaled for something that clearly can't be blamed on just one of the two of us. We'll just chalk it up to this screwy part of the galaxy, heal, forget about it, and move on. Everyone wins."

Sulu's nostrils flare, like he wants to argue some more, but (thankfully) he doesn't. He just nods and stands up, looking around for his shirt and muttering,

"Everyone wins."

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

And even though everyone accepts it (even wide-eyed, trusting Pasha), everyone doesn't win. Actually, Bones kind of loses. His breakfast, lunch, and dinner. On a near-daily basis.

And there's no shore leave, away mission, or epidemic to blame it on, this time—not to mention that Christine is way too suspicious of him after what happened _last_ _time_—so he ends up in his own damned sickbay on one of his own damned sick beds with her using his own damned tricorder on him. And, holy shit, he thought the hobgoblin was the only person onboard who could do that with their eyebrows.

She looks up at him, head cocked to one side, eyes narrower than usual. "Doctor, you're pregnant."

He blinks. "Pardon me?"

"You're pregnant." She says again. "Sir."

"Pregnant." He says.

"I'm going to assume that's not a question." She says.

He gives her a dry look—which she returns evenly, and she had better be damn glad she's his favorite nurse, the cheeky wench.

"Tricorder says you're about two months along." She adds, and there is a little curl at the corner of his mouth that he knows wants to turn into a smirk. "Congratulations, Doctor."

"It goes without saying that this is complete and utter bullshit, because I am and always have been male." He says.

"It goes without saying that someone with a uterus and ovaries is completely capable of becoming pregnant no matter what their dangly bits look like, sir." She replies.

"This shit never happened to me before I boarded the _Enterprise_."

"The shit never happened to anyone before we boarded the _Enterprise_."

"I blame Jim."

"Understandable." A pause. "He's behind on some of his inoculations."

"You're a saint, Christine."

"The tricorder says that Lieutenant Sulu is the father."

"I hate you."

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

A month later, Bones still has no idea how to break the news to anyone, Sulu in particular. Chapel's disapproval is glaringly obvious (emphasis on 'glaring'), and Bones makes a mental note not to let Spock in Medical unless he is gravely ill or injured, because the eyebrow thing is getting freaky.

It's the day she picks up a hypospray and points it at him with her eyebrows practically making out with her hairline that he decides that enough is enough. (Also, he thinks maybe he should ask Jim to put them on different shifts every once in a while because she is picking up on far too many of his bad habits.)

So he goes to the Bridge (as per usual) with no plan at all (which is not as per usual in any way, shape, or form).

"Oh, hey, Bones!" Jim says as Bones steps out of the turbolift.

He sees Sulu hunch down in his chair a little and glance at Chekov the same way he has for the past three months since _it_ happened, and clenches his jaw.

"Hey, Jim." He says.

Jim launches into some explanation of what they're doing (Bones is a _doctor_, not an astronomer or anything else), and Bones lets him prattle on for a while before he interrupts.

"I actually came up here for a reason." He says.

Jim seems to pick up on the fact that the 'reason' is fairly serious, because his face stiffens a bit in the way it does when he knows he's about to receive dubious news. "What's up, Bones?"

He takes a deep breath, locates his balls (because, goddammit, ovaries or not, he is still _very male_), and says, "I'm pregnant."

The entire Bridge (hell, the entire ship) goes still.

Then Jim laughs. It's kind of manic, and maybe more of a giggle than a laugh, but it's obviously meant to break up the tension that has overtaken the room.

"Cute, Bones." He says. "Pregnant. Right."

"Is this the face of someone trying to be cute?" Bones is kind of proud of what a good impression of the hobgoblin he does.

"…Well, no, but…"

"I'm pregnant." Bones says again, and unconsciously puts a hand on his stomach. "I'm three months along, and Christine says it's Sulu's, so I figure that damn pollen's got something to do with it."

They all take note of the fact that he brings up The Incident, which even Spock has avoided talking about in either Bones or Sulu's presence seeing as how the first and last person who said something got an 'accidental' sword hilt to the stomach and a not-at-all-accidental hypo to the neck.

"Oh." Jim says. "Are, um…are you keeping it?"

Bones tilts his head to one side thoughtfully, like the thought of abortion has never occurred to him. "I've known about it for a month now and not gotten rid of it, so I reckon I am." (It has, coincidentally, occurred to him several times, particularly after he had a nightmare about an Alien-esque being ripping out of his stomach. With a katana.)

"Congratulations, Doctor." Uhura says. "And you, Lieutenant."

Sulu makes a choked noise. Chekov, beside him, looks like he's going to cry.

"Thanks." Bones shifts from one foot to the other, then harrumphs loudly. "Well, that's it. I'll let you know when I need to start…paternity leave."

Jim lets out another laugh—this time it is less manic but no less giggly than before.

"I'm going back to sickbay, now." Bones says, rolling his eyes at Jim, and then turns and goes back to the turbolift.

He hears footsteps and stops the doors before they close, even though he kind of wants them to close faster so that he doesn't have to deal with this shit.

"Doctor." Sulu says as the turbolift begins to move.

"Lieutenant." He says.

"Do I…I mean, should we…" Sulu sputters.

"Spit it out, kid." He already knows what Sulu's going to say, but wonders how he's going to react.

"Are we gonna get married?" Sulu asks.

There are times, like now, when Bones wishes he could ignore his Hippocratic Oath and knock the shit out of someone.

"No." He says instead.

"But…I mean, the baby…"

"The baby'll be just fine without us gettin' married." Bones says. "Shit, Lieutenant, you're a kid, yourself. And you're dating _the_ kid; I'm not breaking you two up so we can try and be some sort of perfect little family unit. Besides, gettin' married because of a baby is one of the shittiest excuses I know of to get married. You'd pine over Ensign Jailbait and I'd grump us both to an early grave and the baby'd be by itself."

"Yeah, but…"

Bones rolls his eyes. "Computer, take us back to the Bridge."

Sulu tries again to convince him they should probably get married, but when the doors open he shuts him up with a fist to his jaw (Hippocratic Oath be damned; Sulu needed that). When he sees everyone staring at them, he fixes all of them with the sternest glare he can manage (which is quite stern thanks to years of practice on Jim).

"The next person to try and make an honest man out of me sure as hell better hope he doesn't end up in my sickbay anytime soon, because I know more ways than I can count to make them uncomfortable without alerting anyone of anything." He snarls, and then the doors shut with an ominous click.

No one else proposes to him.

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

"What do you mean, do I want him? Don't you think this is something you should ask…I don't know, a good while _before_ a month before you're due?"

"Would you just can it for a minute? Christ." Bones says. "Look, kid, you and Chekov have been together for a while—I mean, shit, if he can forgive you for getting someone pregnant, I figure you guys are gonna make it—and you've been living together for the past year, and the usual next step is marriage and a kid."

"So you want to pawn your son off on us?" Sulu demands.

"_Our_ son." Bones says. "And I'm not pawning him off on you. I'll still be part of his life. Just…I already have a child. But you two…the chances of us passing another planet with some freaky shit that'll get one of you pregnant is slim to none, so this might be your only chance to…to have a kid that shares DNA with at least one of you." Pasting his usual scowl back on his face, he straightens his posture, folds his arms behind his back, and looks away. "I guess I was…being sentimental, or something. Forget I—"

"No." Sulu says. "I just…let me talk to Pa—Chekov about it?"

Bones nods, an expression on his face that says 'Well, duh.'

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

"Y'know, I think it's some sort of karma, you getting knocked up when you're the one who's always lecturing me about having too much sex."

"Just because none of your one-night-stands can contact you about your kid, doesn't mean you don't have one, Jim."

"That's not funny, Bones."

"Besides, you went down to that planet, too, and you're lookin' awfully pudgy, lately."

"…You shut up! I do not look—do I? No! You shut up!"

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

After another month, Bones is ready to kill someone. He hasn't been so much as allowed to _look_ inside the sick bay in a week (barring a checkup), so about the only things he can do are eat, sleep, pee, and look over PADDs of what his nurses and M'Benga are up to. He hasn't been able see his ankles (or, Goddammit, his _penis_) in so long he hardly remembers what they look like. And Jim has decided that the perfect revenge for his hints that Jim might not be as childless as he thinks is to sit Bones down, start a camera recording, and leave Bones to get up by himself.

Seven hours later, Bones is still on the couch. Jim is back—has been for about two of the past seven hours—but he's just standing behind the camera laughing as Bones curses up a storm. Without using any language besides English—because damn if he knows any—Bones has managed not to repeat a word more than once.

That is, thankfully, when Sulu comes into the room. Because the idiot is too…chivalrous, or something, not to help in some way or other, he's made himself—for all intents and purposes—Bones' bitch. And, don't misunderstand, Bones is grateful. Especially when Jim gets chased out of the room at knifepoint (they are so lucky Jim knows he deserves it, because that means no one's going to get sent to the brig; even Spock turns a blind eye to it, now, which is saying something). But Sulu—and Chekov, too, because the kid's still madly in love with Sulu in spite of everything, and Bones thinks that if he and Jocelyn had been half as devoted to each other they'd still be together—takes things a little too far. The back rubs, the foot rubs, going to great lengths to satisfy Bones' bizarre food cravings, all of it. And Bones kind of feels guilty, but he's pretty sure this is Sulu's way of atoning, or something. (Chekov just loves kids, the little sap; when he thinks Bones is napping he talks to the baby in hushed Russian. His soft, reverent voice is surprisingly soothing to both Bones and the baby.)

"Thanks." Bones says as Sulu helps him up. "Help me to the bathroom—this fucking brat's practicing for _something_ on my bladder, and if Jim does that again I'll piss on _him_."

Sulu laughs and escorts him to the bathroom, but they don't make it in time and Bones is pretty sure some of the curse words he uses aren't actual words at all, even in some obscure alien tongue. So Sulu helps him to the bedroom, where he changes and—for fuck's sake, he's pissed himself, again. Only that isn't piss and that? _That_ is definitely a contraction.

So he starts up his litany of curses again, and Sulu flails around for a moment before returning to his normal, infuriatingly calm state of mind. And Bones curses all the way to medical until Christine hypos him (she is getting some vindictive pleasure in this, he's sure) and he's too out of it to do much more than glare at Sulu's awe-filled face as he watches the C-section being performed. Bones secretly thinks it is unfair and ridiculously stupid that they put the curtain up so he can't watch. He's a doctor, for Christ's sake, not some weeping first-time mother. He has performed more than his fair share of these, and it's not like he's going to suddenly get squeamish at the sight of blood when he's got various crewmembers bleeding out all over the place at least once a week. The fact that it's his blood makes no difference.

He wonders if he should start asking women if they want to watch.

He thinks that's probably a bad idea.

He is vocal and bitchy about it to Christine, M'Benga, and Sulu, instead.

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

"His name is Henry David."

"Shouldn't we…I don't know, talk about it a little?"

"You stuck your penis in a hole and got off. Once. Because of sex pollen. I experienced excruciating pain due to _growing a uterus and ovaries_, carried him for nine months, and then had him _cut out of my stomach_."

"Pavel and I are raising him." Sulu points out. "Not to mention that I _put up with you_ during all of that."

Jim, who is watching the proceedings from the sidelines with the rest of the bridge crew, snorts. "He's got you there, Bones."

Bones' jaw clenches and he glares, but _goddammit_ being pregnant has turned him into a big softy (he will vehemently deny having ever been one before). He'll have to re-earn his reputation as a hard-ass.

"Fine. I'll…hear you out." He says carefully.

"Kousei." Sulu says, and Bones is pretty sure he sees the helmsman glance at Chekov, who doesn't seem to notice the look. "I want his middle name to be Kousei."

"Henry _Kousei_?" He repeats.

"With all due respect, sir, your middle name is Horatio."

"And mine's Tiberius." Jim adds cheerfully. "I'd say he's getting off easy with Kousei."

Bones' scowl, if possible, deepens. But then he looks down at the little baby cradles in his arms, and the expression visibly _melts_ into something so soft and sweet and private that even Sulu feels like he is intruding. He reaches up and pulls the blanket down a bit, so that he can see the baby's sleeping face, and purses his lips.

"Guess it ain't too bad." He mutters; he might be talking to the baby but they aren't sure. "David's a stupid name, anyhow."

"Was that not your father's name, Doctor?" Spock asks, doing the eyebrow thing that they have come to translate as 'you illogical motherfucker.'

"Yeah." He seems content not to elaborate further.

"Doctor?" Christine is in the doorway; she obviously feels like she's intruding, too. "I need to take him, now, and you need to get some sleep."

Bones nods, but his eyes haven't left the baby, and _that_ _look_ hasn't left his face. He leans in—they see a slight twinge in his cheek that they think means his stomach hurts even though the scar's been healed already—and presses a kiss to Henry's forehead.

Christine takes the baby gingerly, giving Bones a sad smile and the others a nod as she leaves. Henry fusses a little.

Jim goes to Bones' bedside, then—his normal, grumpy expression has returned, making him fair game—and ruffles Bones' hair. "You did good, old man."

"Humph." Bones harrumphs loudly, leaning back into his bed. Even though he's obviously trying to look pissed off, he is also obviously completely tuckered out, so they say their goodbyes and leave.

Jim looks back as the doors are closing, and sees Bones lean back against the pillows and wrap his arms around his still-bloated stomach with a lost look on his face.

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

Bones is watching the baby while Sulu and Chekov are on shore leave. No one's sure if that's a good or bad thing—he has kind of been avoiding the three of them for the past ten months.

Honestly, with the way things have been going ever since all of this started, Sulu and Chekov are half-expecting Bones to have run off with Henry by the time they get back.

And, oh shit, the apartment is dead quiet when they enter. Or, no, not quite _dead_ quiet (they really shouldn't think like that, right?), but…really, really quiet. Except they can hear something coming from the back where Henry's room is, thank Jesus.

"I'll love you forever. I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be." The voice is deep and might have been handsome, except it's off-tune (actually, is there a tune to be off of?) and a little hoarse, like a tuba that's been collecting dust for a few months.

"Doc?" Sulu says loudly, and the singing (?) stops. He and Chekov exchange a look, and then push open the door to the nursery. Bones is sitting in the rocking chair, arching an eyebrow at them, with Henry cradled close to his chest. It's such a domestic scene that Sulu has to blink to make sure he isn't seeing things. "We're home."

"Oh, really?" Bones sneers, standing, and lowers Henry into the cradle, tucking him in with a gentleness they wouldn't have expected from the surly doctor.

"Thank you, Doctor." Chekov says.

"Anytime." Bones says, but the weak smile he's giving them turns into a grimace when Henry wakes and starts fussing. "I'll…leave you to it, then."

"You can stay." Sulu says.

Bones shakes his head and then pushes past them.

"No, I can't."

(IDON'TNEEDAPAGEBREAK,IAMAPAGEBREAK)

People who weren't there, who don't know about Henry's _real_ other father, don't notice. Heck, even people who _were_ there sometimes forget. After all, he looks more and more like Sulu every day. He is cheerful and sweet and hardly ever fusses about anything, and if those few times he fusses happen to usually occur when they're on a shuttle, no one thinks twice about it. He's a child, after all, and getting a little sick on a shuttle is anything but uncommon.

Currently, he is snuggled into Chekov's chest, all but asleep because it has been a long day (his third birthday) and he is tuckered out.

"Poor little guy." Sulu says. "You tired, buddy?"

"Today has been busy." Chekov says. "You want to go to bed, Henry?"

"Uh-uh." Henry says grumpily, rubbing at his eyes. "'M not tired."

"You are practically snoring." Chekov says. "Time for bed."

"No." Henry says, scowling at him, and just like that he looks so much like Bones it is almost like he is a completely different child. "'M a toddler, not a baby! I don't gotta go to bed, yet!"

Everyone is quiet for a long moment. Then Bones throws his head back and laughs, loud and long and clear, the most open sound they've heard him make since all of this started.

Jim snorts and looks at Spock, whose lips are pursed together in that way that means he wants to disapprove but for whatever reason can't. "You reckon catchphrases are genetic?"

Spock gives him The Eyebrow.

The End.

_A/N: Bah, that's what I say. This story wouldn't pick an emotion and stay with it. And then halfway through writing it, I accidentally (because my original intention was Bones/Sulu, obviously) wrote a Chulu line, and then my brain goes "Oooh, that could be fun!" and wouldn't let me write anything else, the little bastard. Anyhow, this was for a request made by the amazing moddess of the Star Trek Kink Meme, princess_mir. I do hope that she, and everyone else of course, enjoys it! ;)_

_Oh, PS: 'Kousei' means 'navigation and life.'_

_PPS: Sorry about the fail!sex. __OTL_

_PPPS: Can anybody spot the vague Mary Poppins reference? 8D_


End file.
